Another Waiter Thing

The movie Waiting has made me reflect on my experiences behind the apron. Here is an account of the typical white trash customer:

1.) Walk in with a lit cigarette. It's not like I didn't figure out who you were by the NASCAR hat and the shirt with the arms conveniently missing, but this leaves no room for doubt.
2.) Put all six kids on one side of the booth so you can see the TV in the bar. Brandine can sit on your side though.
3.) Try to be the waiter's new best friend. Be loud, obnoxious, and most importantly...promise to take care of me before I've even gotten your fucking drink order.
4.) Have me specify which drinks have free refills and which do not.
5.) Two kids meals for six kids. "Brandine don't want nuthin but I'll have that $1.99 side salad with what kind of dressin' you like baby? Right, ranch. Gimme extra ranch."
6.) Continue the gregarious behavior. Laugh when I bring you two refills this time so as not to wear out my shoes by the time you leave through constantly refilling your Coke.
7.) Optional. Order the biggest thing on the menu, eat half, send the rest back.
8.) Less friendly now.
9.) Berate the manager over how awful the 24oz steak was and why didn't it come with any shrimp even though those cute little tails on the plate came from somewhere.
10.) Eat 90% of the free dessert even though your five kids and the other kid whose daddy you ain't, but you don't know that, look on with hungry eyes. And no, I can't feel the distance between you and I.
11.) Drop the severely discounted check. All happiness gone. In fact, you look like you're ready to throw me over the bar. Angrily try to compute the bill on your own, convinced there is some mistake, and then remember that you can barely add. Brandine does the math and realizes that the computer is, in fact, not ripping you off. Get angry with Brandine for taking my side. Throw down a $100 bill and demand change.
12.) Drop off change. An unlit cigarette is dangling from your mouth. You quickly grab a single and happily pronounce that it's for me. I don't even smile anymore. You wrangle your kids and common law wife out of the booth and light up the cigarette just inside the front door, much to everyone's displeasure.